


set the controls for the heart of the sun

by vulpesvortex



Category: Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol (2011)
Genre: Blatant Overuse of Pop Culture Discussions, Coming Out, Hypothermia, M/M, Nerds in Love, Queer Themes, tropefic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 06:37:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3280397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulpesvortex/pseuds/vulpesvortex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will and Benji crash a plane in the Austrian mountains. Things snowball from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	set the controls for the heart of the sun

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks go to [tinypi](http://tinypi.tumblr.com) for the beta and some much-needed handholding.
> 
> Though Hammy, the OC from [my other mi:gp fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/628070) makes a small appearance, these fics are not connected.

“Han, Chewbacca, come in.”  
  
Will squeezed his eyes shut against a pounding headache. His tongue felt thick licking across his dry lips.    
  
“Han, Chewbacca, come in,” said a tinny voice in his ear.  
  
Slowly, the distressed flashing of the Cessna’s controls came into focus, along with the repeated comm calls from Ethan through the earpiece, and Brandt shook himself in an attempt to dispel the looming specter of unconsciousness. He flexed his fingers and toes to test for any injuries and found himself with a comfortingly painless command of his limbs. A deep breath proved his chest equally free of places that stabbed or stung with pain. All he felt was the heavy press of bruised tissue where the seatbelt stretched across his chest. He blinked unseeingly at the starry night sky visible through the cockpit window.  
  
“Han, Chewbacca, come in,” Ethan repeated more urgently.  
  
Will opened his mouth, grappling for a response. His mouth felt clumsy, numb;  he split his lip on his second attempt to speak. “Ruh…” His voice scraped his throat coming out, and he realized for the first time how cold the air was, how it needled his lungs. “R-Received,” he managed finally.  
  
“Brandt!”  
  
Will squeezed his eyes shut again.  
  
“Chewbacca,” Ethan said, recovering himself. “Status?”  
  
“I think we’ve had a little accident. Wait, no-” the memory of the approaching missile, its explosive connection with the back of the plane blazed itself across the inside of his skull, and he suddenly identified the drafty cold at his back. “We were shot down.”  
  
He turned in his seat to have a look at the undoubtable wreckage, and stopped halfway there when he laid eyes on Benji in the pilot’s seat, still out cold and half his face covered in blood.  
  
“Shit!” He unfastened his seatbelt and jumped out of the chair, kneeling in front of Benji.  
  
“Wh-“  
  
“Han’s hurt.”  
  
Brandt ignored the way the plane had lurched a little as he stood up, and, behind Benji’s chair, the gaping hole where the back of the plane was supposed to be. He grabbed Benji by the chin, tipping his head left and right to get a better look at him. The blood came from a cut on his forehead, bleeding freely like head injuries were wont to do, and contrasted sharply with the paleness of his skin. Brandt habitually checked Benji’s pulse with two fingers on his throat, relieved to find it strong if a little sluggish. In the moonlight he couldn’t tell if he was imagining the blue tint to Benji’s lips.  
  
“Benji,” he gently shook Benji’s jaw, “Benji, please wake up.”  
  
“Is he alright?” Jane asked over the comm, voice tight.  
  
“He’s got a big gash on his forehead, and he’s still unconscious. He doesn’t appear to be hurt anywhere else,” Brand said for the benefit of the comms, then shook Benji’s jaw again, with slightly more force. “Benji! Benji!”  
  
After another shake, Benji’s brows screwed themselves into a knot. “Mm-rffh,” he grunted.  
  
“Oh, thank god,” Brandt breathed. “Mr. Solo has finally decided to join us,” he added.  
  
He patted Benji’s cheek. “Hey buddy, welcome back to the land of the living.” **  
**  
Benji rubbed a hand at his face, wincing when his fingers brushed the cut. “Oh shit, I’m bleeding, aren’t I?” He peered blearily at the wetness on his fingers.  
  
“Yeah. Do you hurt anywhere else?”  
  
Brandt watched Benji perform the same routine injury check as he had on himself, flexing hands, arms, legs, shoulders, and shifting to test his ribs and abdomen.  
  
“Not too much. Where are we?”  
  
“Jabba’s palace. You’ve been frozen in carbonite for the past six months,” Will said, giddy with relief, and was pleased to get a snorted laugh from Benji. He couldn’t be _too_ banged up, then.  
  
Sobering, he stood up as far as the Skyhawk’s cockpit allowed, careful of the lurching from before. The window afforded only a darkly lit view of the night sky and the snowy tip of an unspecified mountain top, so he turned to see what wisdom the gaping hole in the back of the plane had to offer.  
  
“Huh,” Will said, staring at the tangle of steel-wire cables and the snow-covered ground several feet away. “We appear to be suspended above the mountainside. ‘Bout ten to twelve feet. ”  
  
“What?” Benji said, knuckling his eyes.  
  
“What?” Jane and Ethan said over the comms.  
  
“I think we’re tangled in some kind of wire.”  
  
“Electricity?” Ethan asked.  
  
“Don’t think so. Ski lift?” Brandt offered, walking closer to have a better look at the cables. “Yeah, I think it’s some kind of cable lift. Can’t see any cars or seats though. Ground’s not too far off.”  
  
Brandt peered into the expanse of night-covered snow stretching beneath them, trying to get some kind of bearing. They’d seen their attackers coming, and during the ensuing chase he’d lost track of their coordinates. Benji was a well enough pilot, and certainly had some tricks up his sleeve that’d had Brandt white-knuckling his seat. After a few of Benji’s aileron rolls, Brandt had been very grateful they had been much too busy to have lunch. They’d almost lost them, but their pursuers had been a bunch of persistent little shits, and at the end of the day, they’d only had their little Cessna Skyhawk to bear them homewards.  
  
Nightfall and their precarious position made it impossible to establish any proper idea of where they were, apart from ‘somewhere between Vienna and the Swiss border’.  
  
“Fuck if I know where we’ve landed though.”  
  
“We’ll have to climb down,” Benji said. Brandt looked over to see him unstrapping himself from the pilot’s seat and carefully making his way over to him and the edge of the open hull. “I mean, we have to do that anyway, but, to…” Benji made a vague hand motion, as if lost for the right words. “T-to determine… the thing. Where.” Another wave. “Where we are.”  
  
Brandt regarded him worriedly. He didn’t think Benji’s blue lips were a trick of the light.   _Mental confusion, paleness, shivering, chattering teeth..._ They’d been out long enough that he really was starting to feel the cold himself, the rent hull doing nothing to keep the freezing air outside. Benji was built more slenderly, with less insulating muscle mass, plus he’d had a knock on the head and lost a considerable amount of blood. There was no doubt the cold would get him first.  
  
They needed to get out of here, and they were wasting time.  
  
“Luke, Leia?” Brandt poked his earpiece. “We’re gonna have to get some cover somewhere soon. We’re going to leave the wreck and radio in our location when we’ve found somewhere to stay.”  
  
“Our train arrives in Vienna in a few hours,” Jane said over the comm. “You guys’ve done your part. Get somewhere safe and sit tight until morning, we’ll make sure you’re extracted. We may be tied up on our end but someone’ll be sent out to get you. ”  
  
“Hopefully they’ll be able to clean up the plane before the locals notice as well, if they make it early enough. You’re on your own for tonight,” Ethan said, sounding none too pleased about it, but there was nothing he could do.   
  
“Roger that. Chewbacca out.” Brandt took out the earpiece and put it in his pocket.  
  
“Okay,” he clapped his hands and gave a wry smile to Benji, “let’s get out of here.”  
  
*****  
  
Brandt lowered Benji down through the hole in the hull, gripping him securely by the arm. He didn’t entirely trust Benji’s grip on its own, and Benji seemed to trust _his_ more than enough.  
  
“Okay, on three, let go, and roll when you hit the ground, yeah?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah,”  Benji grumped, taking Brandt’s chaperoning more as a slight to his competence than stemming from a concern about the very real physical and mental impairments that came with hypothermia and concussions, let alone the interesting cocktail of the two Benji was working on. Since the symptoms were so similar, it was extremely difficult to tell where the probably-a-concussion ended and the early onset of hypothermia began.  
  
Brandt gave Benji’s arm a pat with the hand that wasn’t holding on to Benji’s for dear life. “Okay. One, two, three!”  
  
Benji dropped down neatly, executing a perfect roll on trained instinct, but on the uproll his balance abandoned him and he swayed, clutching at his head.   
  
“Owww.”  
  
“You alright?” Brandt called down.  
  
“I’m fine, it’s just the knock on the head,” Benji yelled back grouchily. After a moment he steadied himself and moved from under the plane to stand to the side as Brandt gathered up what little useful supplies they’d rounded up from the plane and jumped down himself.  
  
Back on terra firma, Brandt was displeased to discover they were farther from the mountain’s valley, with its reassuring promise of civilization, than he’d hoped. The nearest village spread out at the foot of the mountain in a small sea of lights, several miles down.  
  
With only their thin clothes and the time they’d already been exposed to the freezing air and snow it seemed unlikely they’d make it down before the cold incapacitated them.  
  
Brandt looked up, following the line of the cables to the mountaintop. He couldn’t tell because of the steepness of the angle and their closeness to the top, but if this was a ski lift, it was likely there was a restaurant or panorama center at the top.  
  
“Up, then?” Brandt asked, not so much looking for agreement as for evidence Benji was still mentally present.  
  
Benji threw a longing look at the lights of the town beneath, a wary look up at the dark top of the mountain, calculations going on behind his eyes, and came to the same conclusion as Will: the town was too far away and they needed to get a move on.  
  
The ski facilities at the top were their best bet by far, providing the logic of the ski lift held up and there actually were facilities there.  
  
“Goodbye, sweet Skyhawk,” Benji intoned dramatically. He gave the little plane a wistful salute -because of course three hours and one near-death experience was more than enough time for Benji to bond with a piece of tech - before turning on his heel and following Brandt.  
  
So they started their trek upwards, racing against the clock. Benji hadn’t brought down the plane all that far from the peak’s summit, but the snow was deep and ungroomed and the air was bitterly cold. With only their jeans and shirts to combat it, they soon began to feel its effects. The windchill on the exposed mountainside was significant. Will’s feet were freezing, wet snow soaking his shoes, socks, and the lower half of his jeans; the resulting numbness made him clumsy on the steep hill.  
  
As the cold shut down the higher brain functions, Will kept their goal determinedly in mind and sight, hoping that if he could just focus on getting safely to the top he could ward off the confusing effects of hypothermia. He’d been in similar situations on missions before, and while hypothermia definitely impaired judgement, if you decided to do something, you’d keep going no matter how stupid or impossible it was. As long as he could make sure his determination was aimed in the right direction, he’d get them there or die trying.  
  
Benji was fading faster than he was. Much as Brandt would have preferred to keep his hands in his pockets and shield them from the worst of the windchill, after barely ten minutes of climbing he was forced to keep a hand on Benji pretty much continuously to keep him from wandering off or slipping in the treacherously loose snow.  
  
They’d almost reached the crest when Benji sagged tiredly against the steep angle of the mountainside, limp as a fresh corpse. “Let’s sit for a while.”  
  
“No!” Brandt grabbed Benji roughly by the shoulders and pulled him upright. Benji faltered, sagging against Brandt before Will righted him with a strong hand on either shoulder. His hands screamed at him, frozen muscles protesting their use. “No, we’re almost there. You can’t sit down. I know that seems like the solution right now but it’s really not, okay? You gotta trust me.”  
  
The urge to lie down and rest was all too familiar and, right then, almost overwhelming. Brandt had fought it every step of the way, knowing only hazily that to give in would be the end of them. They had to keep going.    
  
Benji blinked owlishly at him before nodding, a determined set to his jaw.  
  
“Okay, good.” Brandt grabbed his hand. “Just a bit more, buddy.”  
~~  
~~ *****  
  
By the time they made it to the top  - which thankfully did feature a panorama restaurant overlooking the valley and pistes – Brandt’s hands weren’t really up to any sophisticated lockpicking, so he just knocked in one of the tall windows flanking the entrance doors and pulled Benji inside. He waited for the high whine of an alarm, but none came: only the steady puffs of their breath condensing in the cold. Going up to the wall, he found the little alarm box and ripped it open, looking for a silent alarm, but it appeared to be offline. There didn’t appear to be any electricity at all.  
  
“What the-?” He huffed, more to himself than to Benji, who by now didn’t seem all that interested in paying attention to anything except hugging himself tightly inside his shirtsleeves.  
  
He dragged Benji further into the restaurant. ~~~~

As Brandt perhaps could have surmised from the lack of seats on the lift cables, the panorama restaurant was abandoned. Not just way-past-dark-on-an-empty-ski-piste abandoned, but out-of-commission not-been-used-in-months abandoned. The air inside was near-freezing and most of the furniture had been taken, apart from the bench seats and large wooden dinner tables that were bolted to the floor.  
  
Whoever owned the place had done a pretty shoddy job of clearing it out: the carpet was all torn up from where the attached seats and appliances had been ripped away, broken lights dangling from the ceiling, everything covered a variety of debris and dust. There were ice crystals forming at the corners of the large panorama windows at the front of the dining hall.  
  
“Well, at least no one will bother us,” Brandt said shakily. “Shit.”  
  
Benji stared back at him hazily.  
  
Will forcibly dragged himself back from the haze of disappointment and cold. They’d made it to the restaurant, but…

No heating. What did he need to do now? He wanted to curl up somewhere warm and sleep for a week. There was a perfectly good floor right there, and – Brandt shook himself.  
   
“Okay, let’s go find somewhere warm, eh?” He said, giving Benji’s elbow a gentle nudge. His voice wobbled unpleasantly around his chattering teeth. Brandt could barely feel Benji’s wrist in his hand, his fingers were so numb.  
  
Benji seemed on board enough with that idea and let himself be lead to the empty space at the back of the hall, where the buffets and register would have been. Discoloured patches of ripped carpet showed where the food counters had been. Those, apparently, someone had deemed important enough to remove.  
  
Will did a quick scope of the restaurant, leaving Benji in the open where he could keep track of him easily. He needed a small room they could heat quickly, with some blankets, and preferably somewhere to make a fire without risking burning down the entire building.  
  
There was a large, separate kitchen even further in the back. Brandt checked the oven for gas, and briefly considered the kitchen when he found a rusting can still attached to the gasline. Even without electricity, they would be able to make it work and lie down in front of the open oven to warm up, but he dismissed it when he realized the tile floor would negate any heat they’d glean from the oven. Still, he kept it in the back of his mind in case of emergency.  
  
Next was a manager’s office, recognizable only because of a broken desk and the wild disarray of papers and folders spread in a whirlwind around the small space. A thermostat hung on the wall next to the door, mocking him with its uselessness. Will thought longingly of the ornamental hearth in the hall where they’d come in. They could’ve easily made a fire and warmed up the central hallway, were it not for the window he’d broken coming in.  
  
Deciding that it was no use crying over spilt milk (or in this case, broken windows), Will grabbed the metal wastebin from under the manager’s desk and stuffed it with papers.  
  
They ended up settling for a supply closet: it was large enough that they’d be able to lie down on the floor and have room to put the bin with the fire near the door, and it had no windows through which heat would escape. He pulled down what linen he could find on the shelves – mostly tablecloths and towels – and threw them down in the corner. Satisfied, he went to get Benji from the dining area.  
  
“Hey,” he said softly, putting a hand on Benji’s shoulder. Benji was staring at his shoes,  which were covered in snow and ice. “Come on.”  
  
“Okay,” Benji said vaguely. He followed Brandt easily enough, one hand twisting into the back of Will’s shirt.  
  
“Benji, you know what we gotta do, right?” Brandt said, when they were inside the supply closet. They were both trained for this. _Oh Christ, to have to tell Benji -_ “Start taking your clothes off and get under the covers. These wet clothes aren’t doing us any good right now.”  
  
He didn’t stick around to watch. There were still some things to do, and there were some things a guy shouldn’t see unsollicited, like his teammate's privates.  
  
“I’ll be back in a sec, I gotta go take care of a few things, yeah? I’ll be right back,” Will said hastily. He waited until Benji started to pull off his shirt and he was satisfied Benji would do as told before rushing out of the closet again.   
  
Will went back to the manager’s office and grabbed a second supply of papers and put them next to the bin, and rooted around the kitchen for a packet of matches to light them with. From the hallway he got whatever coats had been left hanging in the cloakroom and he pulled what pillows he could find from various dining chairs to pad their nest with. They needed something that would burn longer than a sheaf of papers too, so he efficiently smashed up one of the dining chairs and stuck the legs in the bin, stacking the remains with the back-up paper. Finally, he took a pan from the kitchen, climbed back outside through the broken window, filled it with snow, and put it near the fire too.

“I think that’s it,” Brandt said out loud, mostly to himself, racking his brain for anything he might have forgotten. Once he got settled he wouldn’t be getting up again. His brain answered with obstinate static.  
  
“Okay.” He continued nonsensically, watching Benji, already installed in the blankets, through the dimly-lit darkness of the supply closet. He hadn’t spoken much since they had started up the mountain, but he watched Will with attention now.  
  
Will steeled himself against Benji’s gaze, against the prospect of climbing under the sheets with him. His hesitation didn’t last long as the cold air nettled him. He wasn’t quite at the stage of hypothermia where taking your clothes off started to seem like a good idea, so he stripped quickly down to his underwear and dove under the covers.  
  
They had a fire now, and sheets. He could probably have gotten out of it, he thought. Chances were they’d be okay. Except he suspected Benji had passed the point where his body could heat itself up again without outside help, and Will knew well enough that it didn’t need to be below freezing for hypothermia to become dangerous. He still felt lucid enough himself, but he also recognized that he might not be the best judge of the situation right now.  
  
Brandt slipped in behind Benji, positioning the other man closest to the fire. Benji didn’t say anything when Will put an arm around his chest, and he tilted his head up obligingly when Will tried to wedge his other arm under his neck.  
  
Will hissed as he pulled Benji against his chest: Benji’s skin felt like a dead fish, cold and clammy. He was pretty sure his own didn’t feel much better to Benji - it'd take a moment before the space beween them started to heat. They lay together, breathing quietly, waiting. Will could feel the room grow warmer from the fire, almost like a physical thing, pressing against his cheeks and along the covers.  
  
Will’s eyes had grown heavy almost immediately as he lay down, but he willed himself to stay awake long enough to make sure they were heating up.  
  
The tingling in his limbs started soon enough and made him wish he’d lain down outside in the snow after all, like he’d know it would. Pins and needles ran down his arm from shoulder to fingertip, stabbing up his forearms and searing his palms, and the skin on his legs itched and burned. It hurt like a motherfucker.  
  
“Bloody hurts,” Benji moaned softly, curling in on himself even further and putting his hands inside his armpits, clenching down tight. His teeth had started chattering again, Will could feel his jaw tensed against it under his own.  
  
“I know,” Will soothed, feeling useless and tired and sorry. He resisted rubbing Benji’s skin with his hands, wary of the ice crystals that might have formed inside. He tucked one hand under Benji’s side and the other under his own neck, the arm folded back under Benji’s head. His words slurred and his eyes kept trying to slide closed. “I know.”  
  
Benji made a pained, accepting noise, tucking his face close against the inside of Will’s elbow.  
  
“We’re going to be okay,” Will whispered against Benji’s ear, relief and sleep washing over him, exhaustion finally taking over.     
  
*****  
  
When Will woke up, he was a little surprised to find himself with a nose full of ashy woodsmoke and a warm sleeping body in his arms. Then he remembered the plane crash.  
  
_Right_. They’d gone down somewhere in the Austrian Alps and were crashing in an old ski lodge at the top of a mountain. All in all, they’d woken up in stranger places.  
  
Will’s heart gave a little kick.  
  
_They._  
  
He was holding Benji.  
  
Instinctively, Will took stock of Benji’s vitals. _Breathing normal and relaxed, skin temperature warm enough where it pressed against his own, nothing indicating distress or injury._  
  
He lay still for a moment longer, trying to get back the events after the plane crash, mentally placing the various sensations of stiffness and tenderness in his limbs, from his cramping left footsole to his sore hands. His head still felt a litle fuzzy, like his thoughts were tracking through mud.  
  
Benji, seemingly attuned to Brandt’s wakefulness even in sleep, began to stir too.  
  
“Hnngh,” Benji groaned. He stretched, first cautiously, then with enthusiasm. “I feel like I got into a wrestling match with the Hulk,” he complained.  
  
Brandt couldn’t help but grin against Benji’s ear. “Naw, just Dr. Freeze.”  
  
Benji let out another groan, muffled against his pillow. Or what normally would’ve been his pillow, but were now actually Will’s naked biceps. He didn’t seem to notice. “I refuse to acknowledge that movie.”  
  
“He wasn’t only in the movie, you know. The comics-”  
  
“I know,” Benji said. “But it’s impossible to scrub Arnie’s performance from your brain.”  
  
“Alicia S-“  
  
Benji cut him off again almost immediately, making a cutting motion in front of himself with his hand that Will felt more than saw in the current darkness. “Alicia Silverstone does not save that movie, Will. _Nothing_ saves that movie.”  
  
“One word,” Will said, fighting hard to stifle his laughter at Benji’s serious-as-a-heart-attack tone. “Bat-skates.”  
  
“Bat-skates are a travesty! B-“ Benji tried to turn around in Will’s arms, but Will quickly tightened his grip on Benji’s hip and held him still. He was warm and comfortable; he wasn’t gonna let a little petty argument change that. “Bat-skates he says,” Benji grumbled, fighting laughter. Brandt could feel it through his naked back against his chest.  
  
“I thought you would’ve been all about the gadgets,” Will said, amused.  He tried desperately not to think about all their bare skin pressed together.  
  
“I’m about _cool_ gadgets,” Benji said with great dignity.  
  
“Like masks?” Will asked, still grinning.  
  
“Like masks.”  
  
Will laughed, tightening his arms around Benji. He felt euphoric: safe, warm, sleepy, fond of the ridiculous man in his arms. He never wanted to move.  
  
That argument settled, they lapsed into comfortable silence, both pleased and relatively warm in the darkness of the small room. Brandt’s internal clock told him they hadn’t been out for too long: no more than two hours. Maybe he could go back to sleep in a minute -  
  
“Will?” Benji said after another moment.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“We’re cuddling naked.”  
  
“Yeah,” Will said hesitantly.  
  
“And I gotta pee.”  
  
Will barked a laugh, hiding his face against Benji’s neck as he snickered, and let go of Benji’s waist. “Sure thing, man.”  
  
“Thanks.” Benji smiled back at him. He pulled one of the tablecloths towards himself. “I’m just gonna take this…”  
  
“Good plan,” Will agreed, failing to stifle another laugh. “Don’t stay away too long or I’m gonna come looking for you, alright?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah.” Benji got up, wrapped in the tablecloth like a burrito. He threw Will a grin over his shoulder. “Two shakes.”  
  
Will resettled himself in the blankets, adjusting them wherever Benji’s appropriation of the tablecloth had opened him up to the chilly air. He lay snickering quietly to himself for another moment, idly watching the door through which Benji had made his exit. The room was dark and smoky, lit only by the last remaining embers of their bin fire.  
  
After another minute, he rolled himself into a sitting position, taking care to keep the blankets wrapped about himself. He felt restless and cold, now he was alone in the room. It wasn’t the numbing, searing coldness from before, but rather the kind of slight chill you got when you had the A/C turned up just a little too high. Sitting up had the disadvantage of making him breathe in a thicker layer of the smoke curling against the ceiling, and Will hurriedly rolled onto the balls of his feet, coughing and grabbing for the door.  
  
He stood in the hallway watching the cloud of smoke leisurely roll out of the supply closet, weirdly mesmerized and, admittedly, still a bit slow from their earlier predicament.  
  
The temperature was even lower in the hallway than in the closet, though, and it wasn’t long before Will’s bare feet protested being exposed to the frosty carpet.  
  
“Fuck,” he cursed quietly to himself, jumping from one foot to the the other. He went back into the closet, despite the remaining smoke, and risked an arm outside of his coccoon of blankets to stuff the back-up pile of papers and the remains of the chair into the wastebin. He cursed again when he realized he’d need two hands to light the damn thing. He wrapped up again immediately afterward, shuffling closer so he could wriggle his toes at the kindling fire. It felt incredibly good, once the fire got going, and standing close round the cold air rolling in from the hall didn’t bother him so much either.  
  
“Will.” Benji came up behind him.  
  
Will jumped, realizing he’d zoned out standing near the fire, stupefied by the spreading warmth.  
  
“Hey,” Benji said, smiling at him gently. He brushed his hands together. “So, turns out it’s cold as Iceman’s solidly frozen dick outside.”  
  
Will gave him a look that he hoped conveyed _You are such a wackjob_.  
  
Benji was his favorite wackjob though.  
  
Especially when he added: “Also, I found beer.”  
  
“As in, _beer_ beer? For drinking?” Will asked, incredulously, looking around the supply closet’s abundant provisions of dick all. “Where? How?”  
  
Benji’s arm emerged from his blanket-burrito, holding out two opened half-litre bottles of _Weissbier_. “Kitchen cupboard.”  
  
“Sweet,” Will said, taking one. He knocked it against Benji’s. “Cheers, mate.”  
  
Benji’s eyes narrowed mockingly. “Are you making fun of my cultural heritage?”  
  
“I would never.”  
  
“’Cause the beer and I can just go hang out in the kitchen with the gas stove and the penetrating sense of commercial decline...”  
  
“No, no, no. Not necessary.” Will did the best boy scout salute he could manage under the circumstances of being wrapped in tablecloths like a discount mummy, and took a swig of the beer. It tasted fantastic to his dried-out tastebuds.  
  
Will’s eyes fell on the dark stain at Benji’s temple, a few dried trails of blood running down his cheek and jaw. Will set down his beer and picked up the pot with water from next to the fire.  
  
“Hey, ” he said, carefully tipping back Benji’s jaw with his fingertips. “Hold still.”  
  
Will dipped a corner of one of his many tablecloths into the lukewarm water and used it to scrub away the blood from Benji’s face, taking care to be gentle around the cut and bruise on his temple. Benji sipped his beer.  
  
“You feeling alright?” he asked softly.  
  
“Yeah. You?”  
  
“Yeah, I’m good. A bit fuzzy.”  He rubbed the cloth at a spot on the hinge of Benji’s jaw.  
  
“Good, that’s…”  
  
At first, Will thought Benji had zoned out, but then he realized Benji was peering at the shelves behind him. “There’s soup. And tomatoes. In cans,” Benji said, slowly.  
  
Will turned, dropping the wet cloth, and grabbed one of the cans. It was inscribed _Frittattensuppe_. The expiration date was in 2017. “Huh.”  
  
“There’s gas in the kitchen…”  
  
They looked at each other, eyes wide, as realization dawned.  
  
“Fuck yeah,” Will whooped.  
  
*****  
  
“What about Clooney?” Will asked, perched on the kitchen counter as Benji stirred the soup. Will was wearing a pair of jeans and an oversized black coat he’d found in a box in the hallway labeled _Fundsachen_ , hugging himself inside the folds of the coat. Benji had been allotted a pair of red thermal leggings and a tourist shirt from the box. Will wasn’t quite sure who’d gotten the short end of the stick on that deal.  
  
“George Clooney?”  
  
“Yeah.” Will dipped a finger into the pot to taste, neatly avoiding Benji’s eyes. The soup was still only lukewarm. Christ, he was hungry.  
  
“What about him?” Benji frowned at him, confused.  
  
“Does he save _Batman & Robin_?”  
  
“He really doesn’t,” Benji laughed.  
  
“What about Robin, then? Chris O’Something. I always liked him better anyway.”  
  
“O’Donnell?”  
  
“Yeah, that one.”  
  
“Didn’t I say nothing saves _Batman & Robin_?” Benji tapped his chin with the end of the spoon. “And when did this turn into Who’d You Rather? In any case, if you like him you could just watch _Batman Forever_ , and you’d get Kidman and Kilmer and Jim Carrey in spandex for free.”  
  
“That is true.”  
  
“In fact, I believe _Batman Forever_ is the best choice all around.”  
  
“I think somewhere out there Christopher Nolan just twitched,” Will said, grinning. “Is the soup done yet? I’m starving. And I think my toes are frozen.”  
  
“Patience, grasshopper.”   
  
Will swung his feet impatiently, flexing his toes to try and get some blood flowing. _Hungry. And cold as fuck._  
  
“You could’ve just asked, you know,” Benji said, into the ensuing silence. To Will’s relief, he didn’t seem angry, one eyebrow tilted up in gentle amusement.  
  
Will shrugged helplessly, caught. He hadn’t exactly been subtle about his questioning, but he’d hoped he could escape _talking_ about it, and now he had to, he didn’t quite know how much he wanted to…reveal.  
  
“Why _did_ you ask?”  
  
“I got to talking with your friend Hammy at your desk a while ago, when you went to get the surveillance stuff from the cache? He said some things that got me wondering.”  
  
“Like what?”  
  
“Like that you and his husband have a long-standing feud about whether Harrison Ford or David Bowie wore leggings better.”  
  
Benji barked a laugh.  
  
“Obviously you’re on Han’s side,” Will added, grinning.  
  
“As Chewie, you are duty-bound to back me up,” Benji said, pointing the dripping soup-spoon at him.   
  
Will threw up his hands, hoping to avoid further soup-spattering.  “Ehhh, I don’t know, I mean, Bowie’s bum is like-“ he made a small cupping motion with his hands, “this big...”  
  
Benji tapped him on the nose with the spoon. “Shut your face, or you’re not getting any of this sure to be delicious,” he paused, struggling to remember the name,” …frittle-tittle soup.”  
  
Will let out a loud snort.  
  
Benji ignored him, stirring the soup primly and tasting it, with as much zen as he could muster. “Oh, hey, I think it’s done.”  
  
*****  
  
It turned out ‘frittatten’ were some kind of egg noodles, and the soup was more than passable.   
  
They ate from the pan, huddled around the bin-fire in their tablecloths and borrowed clothes, leaving the door open so the smoke wouldn’t smother them. Their own clothes were drying on some of the empty shelves of the supply closet, and their warm dinner was supplemented with cans of fruit from the stacks and the beer Benji had found earlier.  
  
“So what do you think we should do?” Benji asked, pulling open a can of peaches.  
  
“Get some sleep, wait for Jane and Ethan to extract us in the morning? Shit!” Will sprung up, dashing to grab his discarded trousers off their shelf. “I forgot to check back in with them when we made it here.”  He rummaged through the trouser’s pockets until he found the earpiece, clicking it to turn it back on. “Luke? Leia?”  
  
“Chewie!” Jane’s voice came over the comm channel, loud and clear, followed by a quick affirmation from Ethan.  
  
“Hey guys,” Will said, feeling himself burst into a wide grin at the sound of their teammates’ voices. “We made it to a safe spot.”  
  
“Can you hang tight? It looks like we’ll be able to pick you up around oh-sevenhundred hours. We’ve got the GPS from the comm.”  
  
“Yeah, we’re about to hunker down. We’ll be ready to leave when you get here.”  
  
“Okay, stay safe.”  
  
“You too,” Will said. “Chewbacca out.”  
  
Benji grinned widely at him. “Best codenames ever.”  
  
Will snorted. “I don’t know why we let you pick.”  
  
“Excuse you, my picks are awesome.”  
  
“For you, maybe. I’m a hairball,” Will grumbled, tidying up their leftovers. “Before that, I was The Thing!’  
  
“Well, who do you want to be?” Benji motioned at their pile of blankets and coats. “Should we get back in?”  
  
“Yeah.” Will banked the bin fire, pulling the door almost shut and putting the bin against the opening. “And I don’t know. Hercules?”  
  
“Okay, next time, you can be Hercules,” Benji said, from under the covers.”Now will you get in? It’s nowhere near warm enough in here.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, hang on to your panties,” Will said, trying not to trip in the dark. “Jesus Christ, you’re impatient when you’re cold.” He climbed in behind Benji, curling up close against him.  
  
The pallet of sheets really wasn't that big, and the fire was going to burn down to embers soon, and they'd already cuddled up with way less clothes on anyway-  
  
_Wanna line up some more excuses there, Brandt?_ Will thought snidely at himself.  
  
“Can I be Pegasus?” Benji asked when Will stopped moving around.  
  
“Why d’you wanna be Pegasus? He’s not even in the story.”  
  
“Yeah, he is! They’re totally bros in the Disney movie.”  
  
“Aren’t you a little old to be watching Disney movies?”  
  
“I have a niece.”  
  
“In _England_.”  
  
“Believe it or not, but I sometimes _go back_ ,” Benji said. “On _a plane_.”  
  
“I didn’t know you still hopped the pond.”  
  
“Well, I haven’t since we met. I was gonna go around Christmas but then we had that thing in Istanbul.”  
  
“Right.” Brandt had barely registered that had been Christmastime. Now he thought about it, that explained this year’s absence of the crushingly depressing get-take-out-and-ignore-Christmas-completely party he threw annually with himself. Being holed up in a shitty apartment in Istanbul with  the team had been far more enjoyable, and no cause for regret as far as he was concerned.  
  
“What about you? Do you still see your folks?” Benji asked.  
  
“My mom’s in a rest resort in Sacramento. I don’t visit.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“I got kicked out when I was 17. My dad… My dad caught me kissing the school quarterback in the back of his Pontiac. I joined up the week after.” Will gave a self-deprecating huff. “I ran straight towards the only place that wouldn’t’ve had me if they’d known.”  
  
“Huh,” Benji said. “I always imagined you’d be the quarterback.”  
  
Will laughed softly. “Oh, I really wasn’t.”  
  
“Nerd glasses and Batman t-shirts?” Benji asked gleefully.  
  
“D &D and chess, but close,” Will said, unembarrassed to admit as much in front of Benji. The guy probably had worse skeletons in his closet when it came to unfortunate teenhood hobbies, and Benji had never shown him anything but adoring glee whenever he’d caught Will catching a reference to one of his old sci-fi movies.  
  
“Chess? Ha, guess you really weren’t an analyst for nothing.” Benji lapsed into silence for a long moment, resettling himself in the blankets. He ended up leaning a little more against Will’s chest, as if looking for more warmth or some sort of reassurance. “You still running?”  
  
“Naw,” Will said. “I gave that up a long time ago. I was gonna quit the army, but by the time I pulled my head out of my ass enough to start thinking about what I wanted to do with my life, I was in Special Forces and hiding didn’t seem to matter all that much anymore. Once you’ve got a certain level of usefulness no one’s really bothered about who you want to get into bed, you know? And then I got sleuced into IMF and it mattered even less.”  
  
“Yeah, IMF’s not really about the straight and narrow. Like swinging both ways or hailing from the old country,” Benji agreed. “Or being the mouthy little shit that hacked the Central Intelligence Agency,” he added with a touch of pride.  
  
“Fuck, I always forget you were kicking around the internet when most people still thought that involved payphones and riding a digital hoverboard through a tower of binary code.”  
  
“It’s been a wild ride,” Benji said, laughing. “The world seems to have caught up now, more or less.”  
  
“Hmm.” Will rearranged his long coat around himself under the blankets, pulling it from where it was bunched up under his hip. Sleep pulled at him. He yawned. “You know, I didn’t mean for tonight to turn this confessional.”  
  
 “Well, I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me. In an abandoned ski restaurant on top of some godforsaken Austrian mountain, no less. Very atmospheric. I like it.”  
  
“I’m sorry I interrogated you.”  
  
Benji lightly slapped his thigh. “No, you’re not, you’re a nosy little shit. But it’s okay, I don’t mind. It’s not a secret.”  
  
“I’m glad,” Will said.  
  
Benji rolled his eyes. “Can we go to sleep now? Jane and Ethan will be here in a few hours.”  
  
“Oh, that reminds me, you should set an alarm on your watch.”

“Oh, right.” The room briefly lit up blue with light from the watch display as Benji manipulated the buttons on the side. “Seven, was it?”  
  
“Make it half.”  
  
“I doubt we’ll sleep the night through anyway. We’re sleeping on the floor.”  
  
“Whatever.” Will pulled the sheets up in tight against his chin. “I am officially too tired to care.”  
  
“Okay, it’s set.” The room went dark again. “Goodnight, Will.”  
  
“G’night, Benji.”

They lay together in the silent darkness, neither quite falling asleep.  
  
With the urgency from before removed, and without the nettling pain of the blood returning to his extremities, it was suddenly a whole lot harder to ignore the closeness of Benji’s skin, and the memory of how he’d touched it, rubbed feeling and warmth back into it. Pressed up, now as then, against Benji’s back, and feeling his steady breathing through the thin t-shirt. Without the distraction of their conversation, Will’s mind kicked into gear, offering a million small observations on the smell of Benji’s skin behind his ear, the rhythm of his breaths, the intermittent impatient twitch in his left foot, or the frequency of the little jump in his own pulse, the soft static drone of his own blood pumping in his ears.  
  
Figuring the imminent death of their small fire for enough of an excuse, Will slid an arm under Benji’s side and pulled him further back against his own chest. Brandt lost a battle of wills with his hands and they, at least half on accident, ended up on Benji’s hips, his fingers settling along the little dips above Benji’s hipbones. His shirt had ridden up. _Of fucking course_. Will wanted to dash his own skull on the carpet floor. He settled for hiding his face against the back of the other man’s neck.  
  
Benji’s skin was hot to the touch now, warm and alive, so unlike the dead fish feeling from before.   
  
Will held his breath, commanding his heart to beat at a sensible pace. Benji's shoulders had gone tense when Will's hand had slipped under his shirt, though his stomach moved deep and evenly with his breaths under Will's hand, his spine pressing incrementally back against Will's chest. Was it the night's revelations that made it awkward now, or simply the fact that they had their heads on straight?  
  
Will kept his eyes closed, rubbing his nose behind Benji's ear in what was meant to be a soothing gesture. They'd lain together like this not an hour ago, and both slept soundly. If Benji would just relax, he could, _would_ , sleep again warm and close like this.  
  
_Just sleep, I promise,_ Will thought, half at himself, half at Benji. Even as he thought it, his hand rubbed once up and down Benji's side in a reflex to calm and soothe, and the moment was kickstarted back into awkwardness.  
  
Will hid his eyes against Benji's neck, willing his hands into stillness, willing Benji's spine from its stiff, uncertain arch. _Please, let's sleep._  
  
None of it worked. The moment stretched on from awkwardness into tension until eventually Benji tried to turn his head and whispered, hesitantly, "Will?"  
  
Will pulled back from his neck so that Benji could catch his eye over his shoulder, not daring to sigh.  
  
In the absence of proper light, even Benji's bright eyes seemed very dark and unreadable. Will wondered what his own face looked like. Was Benji getting pleading from him? Longing, frustration, lust? Will tried to construct a reasuring look and felt himself fail, the smile too tight, his brow creasing slightly.  
  
The ability to school one's expression was integral to intelligence work, and Will's apparent loss of it in the face of Benji's opaquely inquiring gaze was disconcerting to say the least.  
  
He didn't have very long to be disturbed by it, because whatever Benji saw in his face made him lever up onto one elbow and press a determined kiss to Will's lips.  
  
Will groaned and grabbed him by the neck, pulling him in close. He kissed back eagerly, tipping back the other man's jaw and invading his mouth.  
  
Benji tasted like peaches and dark beer.  
  
It was almost like touching a live wire, the way Will's entire body lit up instantly, the awkward tension he'd held before synthesizing into a rush of adrenaline and arousal so strong it almost flattened him. _Holy Christ, Benji was kissing him._ Articulating that thought unintentionally sent another shudder through him.  
  
Will groaned, pressing closer, rolling them over a little so Benji wasn't twisted sideways any more and Will was more on top of than leaning over him. The sheets slipped and a rush of cold air came in, causing them to burst into laughter when they both made a blind grab for the sheets without stopping the kiss.  
  
"Fuck," Benji laughed, pulling the edge of the sheets back up around Will shoulders, Will's long coat falling around them both. Will couldn't resist kissing his neck, especially not when Benji pushed his head back to give him more room and made a number of very interesting noises. Will nuzzled his throat, taking a moment to get his breath back. They settled more comfortably against each other, the first rush of urgency slowed by their burst of laughter. Will watched Benji's dark eyes shimmer at him as he leaned in to kiss him again, slow and teasing this time.  
  
Benji met him with equal softness, sliding a hand into Will's hair and gripping tightly, arching slowly up against him. Will let out a quiet moan.  
  
It didn't take much to set them off again. One moment they were sharing a succession of slow, soft, wonderful kisses that made Will’s toes curl and then he was pushing up Benj's borrowed t-shirt and Benji's nails were raking down his back under his coat and they were both trying to undo the button on his jeans.  
  
"Oh fuck fuck fuck," Will cursed mindlessly, rocking down against Benji's hip and _this was really happening_ , they were getting off together, and Benji curled back and tossed his shirt and then they were kissing again, crashing into each other like a desperate train wreck.  
  
A faraway part of Will's brain registered that this really wasn't the best time to be doing this, stranded on a mission, awaiting rescue, and yet at the same time what better moment than this, alive and together and with no one to pick them up for hours. Brandt had declared himself as far as he dared with his questions and his admissions about his past. Now Benji had made the next move.  
  
Will might have worried about what it all meant, had Benji's eyes not been almost impossibly fond under hooded eyes as he pulled back from another kiss.  
  
A small surge of panic rose in his stomach all the same when he realized how invested he was in this being more than a one-off, and while dissing dumb superhero movies and sharing body heat were all aspects of a relationship with Benji that he could get behind, they hadn't exactly declared their everlasting devotion to each other. Will hadn't even told him he was in love with him.  
  
He wanted this to be about more than closeness and warmth and convenience, not just two guys rubbing off on each other because the situation put them together half-naked and huddling for warmth. He wanted, somehow, to make this harder to swipe under the rug, which was what he was afraid would happen if he just kept rubbing against Benji's dick until they both came.  
  
Whatever fresh disasters they were going to wake up to in the morning when they had to come down this mountain, he didn't want plausible deniability to be one of them.  
  
Will kissed Benji's neck, softly behind his ear, whispering nonsense he couldn’t keep in that really didn’t amount to more than urgent repetitions of Benji’s name.  
  
He ran a hand up Benji's chest to feel the muscles in his stomach, his ribs and sternum, all the way up to his collarbones, tracing one with a thumb, pressing an open kiss to the sternum. Then he stroked his hand down, slowly following with his mouth, watching Benji all the while as he slid down. It was magnificent to see his eyes widen, to see Benji levering up onto his elbow to watch him with anticipation. Will grinned widely, sharklike, and he saw the moment Benji got hit with the same realization that Will had had before, that little _holy shit, this is really happening._  
  
He raised his eyebrows and kissed Benji’s stomach, a last request for permission, before pulling the leggings down just far enough to expose Benji's dick.  
  
Benji fell back almost immediately when he took him into his mouth, throwing an arm across his eyes. "Jesus Christ, Will."  
  
He cursed again when Brandt started to suck, one hand pressed to Benji's sternum as if to keep him in his skin. Benji was moving against the blankets, his legs curling up around Will until a knee pressed against Will's shoulderblade. God, that was hot. Will kept going, moving slowly up and down, ridiculously thrilled by the effect he was having. He went at a while, easily, rubbing his cheek against Benji's thigh, pulling back occasionally to give a long lick up or suck around the head. Between the extended kissing and the steady suction, it didn’t take long for Benji to come.  
  
Will stroked him through it, watching fascinated as Benji's cock spit a last few white drops onto his stomach. He leaned up for a slow kiss, made sloppy by his own smugly satisfied grin and Benji’s lack of coordination in the wake of his orgasm.  
  
Will rubbed himself against Benji's hip, unhurried in the face of the wealth of flushed, naked skin spread out under him. Benji, however, had other plans. He grabbed him by the face, hoisting Will back up and kissing the hell out of him while finishing the long-abandoned task of undoing Will's jeans and dragging them down his thighs, taking his boxers along for the ride. Benji didn’t waste any time putting a hand around him, his other hand sliding back into Will's hair.  
  
He couldn’t sit up as well as he’d like with his jeans halfway down his thighs, most of his weight held on his arms and the upper curve of his knees, but the payoff was that he could press close against Benji’s stomach and into the steady strokes of his fist.  
  
“Oh fuck,” Will moaned, his head dropping between his shoulders. Benji’s hand lightly traced a finger along the curve of his ear and Will chased it, craving that tenderness, that affection, capturing Benji’s hand against his shoulder. He couldn’t keep his eyes open, though he tried. “Fuck.”  
  
“You’re like a puppy,” Benji laughed, pulling free his hand and running a finger down Will’s nose, smiling when he scrunched up his nose and still tipped up to press against it.  
  
Will laughed too, hiding his face against Benji’s neck, embarrassed. “Don’t talk about animals in bed. That’s not…that’s not something I’m into,” he said, muffling more laughter. This was good too. Benji’s neck was really warm, and his hand was still stroking him, steady waves of pleasure rolling over him.  
  
“Yeah, me neither,” Benji assured him. “You’d think with all of that talk about Batman at least one of us would have a leather fetish or something,” he added, giving Will an unrepentant smirk when his head whipped up in shocked amusement.  
  
“If you didn’t have a hand around my dick I would smack you,” Will said, with as much dignity as he could muster. It wasn’t a lot, seeing as he was so aroused he could barely see straight _and_ fighting an inconvenient bout of the giggles.  
  
“See, that’s really not something _I’m_ into on the first date,” Benji said, still laughing.  
  
“Please shut up,” Will groaned, burying his head against Benji’s shoulder again. He felt flushed, hot with arousal and laughter and amused embarrassment. He idly regretted the ardent mood from before dissipating, but he reflected that feeling light and comfortable and at ease with Benji also had its benefits. It was like he imagined it would feel to be to used to being together like this, to have dinner at home and fall into bed together at the end of a long day, the TV rambling away in the background-  
  
“After this mission…" Benji began, licking his lips. For a moment Will thought he was nervous, but then Benji tilted his head and smiled at him and he realized it was Benji’s curious look, the kind he’d given Will when he’d come back to his desk and found Will and Hammy embroiled in a heated debate on whether or not animal-shaped chicken nuggets tasted better than normal ones, or when he spouted off some weird fact that Benji hadn’t heard before. Benji liked to say Will had hidden depths.  
   
"Yeah? "  
  
 "When we get back stateside do you wanna watch that new comedy show?"  
  
 "Which one?" Will asked mindlessly, rocking his hips down.    
  
"The one about the police station in Brooklyn. With the stoic police captain? It's supposed to be good."  
  
"You’re asking me this now?" Will demanded incredulously.  
  
"Well, I was thinking we could make pasta and fuck on your couch," Benji admitted.  
  
Will narrowed his eyes at him. "Did you just read my mind?"  
  
Benji just smirked and twisted his hand on the next upstroke.  
  
"O-okay, Jesus, count me in," Will stuttered through a moan. “Christ, Benji.”  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Yeah.” Will agreed fervently. “As long as it's bolognese," he added, snickering when Benji swatted him lightly on the butt.  
  
Benji was laughing too and Will pressed his face into Benji's throat, groaning, joyful, delirious. Benji had a hand on his rump and was pulling him into his strokes and they were snowed in on a fucking mountain in Austria and Benji wanted to watch movies with him and fuck on his couch and-  
  
Will lost it on another loud groan, coming all over Benji's stomach and hand, and _holy shit, wasn’t that a picture?_  
  
He caught himself on his elbows just in time to avoid flopping down onto Benji like a bag of sand, conveniently ending up nose to nose with the wonderful man under him.   
  
“Fucking hell, Benji, that was fucking amazing."  
  
 Benji took advantage of their faces being almost pressed together to nuzzle him contentedly. “Hmm, you’re telling me.”  
  
 One of Benji’s fingers teased between his asscheeks and Will couldn’t help but moan loudly and melt against him.  
  
"Just testin’," Benji said innocently, smirking like a cat who ate the cream, canarie and bacon all in one delicious sandwich.  
  
"You got plans for next time, then?" Brandt asked, delighted to be able to count on a next time.  
  
 "Oh yeah,” Benji said, with gusto. “But i think right now we should probably get some sleep before they start digging us out."  
  
"Sounds like a plan," Will said, snuggling down against Benji’s chest and closing his eyes, prepared to conk out right this second on a wave of endorphins.  
  
“Oi, hang on,” Benji said, giving Will’s head a playful shove. He stretched back and grabbed his discarded t-shirt, using it to wipe down both their stomachs. Will leaned up on an elbow to make room, settling back down when Benji was done and chucked the shirt over his shoulder. “There, that’s better. Now give us a kiss,” Benji ordered with a smirk, stretching back lazily on the floor, seeming comfortable enough with Will half on top of him.  
  
Will’s heart went a little squishy in the center at the content affection in Benji’s expression. He gave Benji the kiss he asked for without compunctions, a long, slow press of lips, hoping to convey through tenderness even a small measure of his feelings.  
  
“Well, I for one am glad we finally got all this out into the open,” Benji said cheerfully, putting an arm around Will’s back.  
  
“Finally?”  
  
“Yeah,” Benji pressed a soft kiss against his hair. “Finally.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, two months ago I was stuck on some other stuff I was supposed to be writing and I asked [tinypi](http://tinypi.tumblr.com) for a benji/brandt prompt and she suggested hypothermiafic, with which I was happy to comply since it's also one of my favourite tropes. This was only supposed to be a 2k ficlet but instead it's...this. Sooo, that happened. 
> 
> Title is a reference to the Pink Floyd song of the same name.


End file.
